


Fat Bottomed Girls

by WizardPendragon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fat bottomed girls, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Queen - Freeform, Stupid shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23936956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardPendragon/pseuds/WizardPendragon
Summary: An angel and a demon decide how to best serve their roles as godfathers
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	Fat Bottomed Girls

“No, I’m not going to be a maid.” The wine in Crowley’s glass nearly sloshed over the side as he picked it up, frowning at Aziraphale. 

“I’m only saying it’s a service many people hire.” There’s a look of indignation on the angel’s face, one that seems to be specially reserved for these conversations with Crowley. “I still think trying to hide inside the boy’s house without a reason is just preposterous.” Of course that had been Crowley’s first suggestion. They make themselves at home in the young antichrist’s room and conveniently disappear whenever the parents were near, use their influence that way. Aziraphale was rather concerned that they’d only lead to making the parents think their son had gone mad, talking to himself all the time, and that didn’t serve either side particularly well. 

“Fine, if you want to spend your time scrubbing out their loo be my guest, but I’m not doing it.” He ignored the very obvious roll of Aziraphale’s eyes, studying his glass of wine like it was going to give him the answer. A silence fell between the two of them, both deep in thought.

“A nanny!” Aziraphale’s sudden exclamation snaps Crowley from his stupor (no, he hadn’t been thinking about mind control, because Aziraphale would only say that was ‘preposterous’ again). 

“A nanny?” Crowley’s answer was flat, eyebrow cocked as he looked to the angel. 

“Yes, a nanny. Children need caretakers.” Aziraphale looked quite proud of himself, taking a sip of his own wine. “One of us could easily be a nanny.” Crowley made a face, wrinkling his nose up and shaking his head.

“That’s still just one of us, though. Well, unless you’re going to be the maid, and I’ll be the nanny.” Children weren’t Crowley’s favorite thing, but they weren’t his least favorite either. Still, he didn’t know he was suited to be around a child all the time, rearing them. 

“You’ve made it sound so dreadful I don’t think I’d like to be the maid either.” Aziraphale’s bottom lip stuck out in a small pout, the one that Crowley always knew meant that he was going to get his way. Rather than answering, he huffed, tilting back another gulp of wine. His gaze landed on a plant nestled between two stacks of books on a shelf. It was a lovely little thing, a jade plant that he’d imbibed with a little extra resistance for the times Aziraphale inevitably forgot to water it. 

“What about a gardener? Surely they’ll have a garden that needs looked after as well.” Crowley looked to Aziraphale expectantly, watching him think it over. “And you do a lovely job with plants.” 

“And I do a lovely job with plants.” Beaming, Crowley tipped back the rest of his wine. “So it’s decided then. You can be the nanny. I’ll be gardener. We’ll be doing our very best to thwart each other all the way.” 

“Splendid.” Aziraphale looked happy with that decision, and Crowley felt a bit better knowing that neither of them would be cleaning up after anyone. 

“I best be off, angel. Wiles to plan and all that.” Crowley pushed himself up from his chair, only a little unsteady, nothing that a moment of sobering up wouldn’t fix. 

“Mm, yes, more wiles than I could imagine,” Aziraphale replied gamely. Always the good host, he walked the demon to the door, watching him swagger out to the Bentley and seeing him off with a little wave. 

As usual, starting up the Bentley Crowley was met with a blast of music much louder than what it was when he’d left. For all the love he’d shown this car it had a mind of its own, and somehow still seemed to surprise him after decades of driving it. It wasn’t a long trip back to his flat, especially when the speedometer needle was rattling at the top end of its range. Just about enough time for the Bentley to present him with one track: Rimsky-Korsokav’s famous Fat Bottomed Girls. 

_Are you gonna take me home tonight?_

_Ah, down beside that red firelight_

_Are you gonna let it all hang out?_

_Fat bottomed girls_

_You make the rockin' world go 'round_

It wasn’t his least favorite, and it always reminded him of Aziraphale for some reason, though he’d deny it to his very last breath if anyone ever accused him of such a thing. Tonight he was still turning over their plan in his mind. Aziraphale may have more influence as a nanny, but they weren’t worried about the boy turning out too good, and Crowley would find his ways to put in his work, of course. 

_Hey I was just a skinny lad_

_Never knew no good from bad_

_But I knew life before I left my nursery, huh_

_Th_ ey both lived fairly human lives as it was. Aziraphale’s bookshop was proof enough of that, it couldn’t get more mundane. A few years of acting as caretakers would be but a blip in their time on Earth, and they’d both end up better off for it. It’d been too long since they’d properly worked together on something anyway, in Crowley’s opinion. Both residing primarily in Soho they saw each other often enough now, but Crowley was always happier with more.

_Left alone with big fat Fanny_

_She was such a naughty nanny_

Of course, it wouldn’t just be Crowley around him. There’d be the family, any other workers, the visitors an American ambassador had to entertain. What did a nanny wear? The nanny would always be introduced as well, showing off the child. Aziraphale could very well be paraded around in front of a number of people. The angel was a stickler for being proper as well, he’d stick to tradition. A Victorian skirt and a petticoat that fell just over the rear. It was supposed to be modest, Crowley thought, but it’d always done more to draw his eyes there than anything else. With someone like Aziraphale filling one out, he could only imagine what sort of attention it could get.

_Heap big woman, you made a bad boy out of me_

_Ti_ res screaming on the pavement, Crowley spun the Bentley around. This wouldn’t do, Aziraphale couldn’t very well be running around looking like that for the next several years. It was indecent, and Aziraphale might not notice exactly what he looked like, and Crowley was going to be there all the time, he’d see it and it just wasn’t going to work.

He brought the car to a halt outside the shop, the smell of burning rubber hanging in the air as he pounded towards the door, shoving it open with a slam. Aziraphale had already made himself comfy on the sofa, dropping the book he was holding on his chest with a start. 

“Really, my dear, there’s no reason to-“ 

“I’m going to be the nanny.” Crowley said shortly. “I’ll be the nanny. You can be the gardener, or the maid.” He paused, blinking a few times, his mind helpfully supplying him with images of frilly maids outfits, even worse than the nanny. “No! No, no, you’ll be the gardener.” Aziraphale pushed himself up, eyebrows lifted. “Nanny,” Crowley repeated, pointing at himself. “Gardener.” Pointing at Aziraphale this time, who looked quite confused by the whole thing. 

“I won’t be able to keep a garden that thrives as you would,” he pointed out when he found his voice. “I didn’t think you liked children.”

“I like them well enough,” Crowley huffed, folding his arms over his chest. Aziraphale smiled slowly, a knowing gleam to his eyes but he simply nodded.

“If you insist. Now, are you staying for another bottle?” He pushed himself up, already reaching for the bottle. Crowley stared, stubbornly silent for a long moment before he conceded by walking over to the sofa and picking up his abandoned glass, holding it out. 

He was going to need it if he was insisting on being the nanny.


End file.
